"You are--you are"--I suspect that he was going to say something the reverse of complimentary, only Lucy's presence and attitude induced him to change his mind--"a husband in a million. Now, Mr. Tennant, allow me, as one gentleman speaking to another, to ask you if, considering all things, you are not disposed to advance me, on unimpeachable surety--that of my word--the sum of seventy-five pounds." "I am not, sir." "You are not? Strange! I confess I had not thought it possible. However, I will not utter what may seem a word of reproach. We will make it fifty pounds, then." "We will not. At least, I won't." "Then, since fifty pounds is insufficient to supply even my most pressing needs, it is useless for me to attempt to carry the discussion further. You are compelling me, Mr. Tennant, to take a step which, when it is taken, we shall both of us regret. But, remember, whatever comes of it--and ill will come--the act is yours, not mine. I wish you good-day, sir; a last good-day! Also, madam, I wish good-day to you." He marched to the door in a fashion which, this time, made up in dignity what it lost in haste. With the handle of the open door in his hand, he turned to me again, "I will concede still one more point. We will make it forty-five." "We won't." "Then nothing remains." He vanished, to immediately reappear; his head and shoulders were inserted through the partly open door. "Shall we make it forty?" "Nor forty." Instead of taking the rebuff as final, he brought his legs and body into the room after his head and shoulders. He addressed himself to Lucy. "I am conscious, madam, that in this matter yours is the controlling voice. May I ask if you quite realise the responsibilities of your position? Your husband's life hangs in the balance. My necessities urge me on. Were it otherwise, I shall be only too happy to give that assistance of which, at present, I stand in need. Even as it is, you shall find in me no huckster. In proof of it, I need only state that I am willing to accept the loan of a paltry five-and-twenty pounds." "You won't get it." "Then what shall I get? I find it hard to believe that a man can be reduced to the position of a mendicant! I ask again--what shall I get?" "Nothing." "That is not only foolish, madam, it is cruel. Shall we speak of such a bagatelle as fifteen pounds?" "No." The fellow made a grimace as if he ground his teeth. "Ten?" "No." He threw out his arms as if appealing to the gods of the gallery. "Confound it; is a gentleman to be reduced to ask for the loan of a trumpery five-pound note!" "Though he asks, he will not get it." He looked at Lucy, as if he could not believe she was in earnest. Then he sighed, or groaned. His hat, which he had been holding in his hand, he replaced upon his head. Throwing his overcoat wide open, he began to examine his pockets, methodically, one by one, as if he searched for something. He did not find it, whatever it was.